


All roads they lead me here

by hardcracksugar



Category: Bon Appétit Test Kitchen RPF, Chef RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, First Time, Getting Together, VidCon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-09-26 03:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20382877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardcracksugar/pseuds/hardcracksugar
Summary: 5 times they said it was the last time, and the one time they didn't.This is RPF and all RPF rules apply ya'll. Don't fucking share this.





	1. The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is RPF and all RPF rules apply ya'll. Don't fucking share this. I'm trash for making this, thank you for reading it though! This is completely unbeta'd so I'm sorry for the litany of mistakes I probably made. Don't be mean, rude or weird in comments. Enjoy.

It was never supposed to happen like this. Of course, it was never supposed to have happened at all but if something was to happen between them it definitely shouldn’t have happened like this. At a work function where they were surrounded by coworkers and cameras and any number of ways that this one time mistake could become something.

When Claire was told that members of the test kitchen staff were going to perform at Vidcon she was mostly just confused. It turned out the members in question were her and Brad and the ‘performance’ was half an hour of them making something followed by a Q&A. When in the planning meeting she asked if anyone would really come to watch them her questions were met by Brad shushing her loudly with one finger over his goofy smile. 

“Come on, Saffitz. They’re paying us for a weekend in Cali-forne-aye-a. Don’t try to talk them out of it. We’ll have a great time and a great show.”

He had punctuated the sentence with a wink and Claire had to close her eyes, feigning annoyance as she pretended not to notice the way her stomach flipped in response. She should have known the trip wouldn’t end well. 

Vidcon was somehow exactly what Claire expected it to be. Every inch of the hotel seemed to be covered in florescent media that was screaming for her attention and if she wasn’t walking through the convention space next to Brad she would have been certain she was the oldest person there by at least half a decade. 

The Wednesday night creators party was somehow even worse than the walk through the con space. For what was meant to be a professional mixer it felt more like the kind of college party she had avoided in her youth and she felt just a tinge out of place in her beige blazer. 

The truly odd part was the way that out of place feeling didn’t last. She had gotten a drink at the bar and was sitting on one of the many branded couches, half staring at Brad’s attempts to dance to the Top Forty pop they were pumping in and half zoning out wondering how long she had to stay when people started approaching her. It was all little things about how fun her videos were at first, but it didn’t take long for other ‘foodtubers’ to seek her out and sit with her and somewhere in there she was enjoying herself. 

Claire ended up staying late, the few drinks from the bar were just enough to let her forget how early her panel was the next morning and while the small group that had amassed dwindled she found herself grinning brightly as she said goodnights. She wasn’t expecting to see Brad just… watching her as she stood up to break away from the group for the night. Suddenly all too self-aware, she made her way over to him with a little wave. 

“Looks like you found yourself a little fan club for Half-Sour-Saffitz-Fanatics.” 

He was grinning as he spoke, wide and proud of himself for his comment but there was something behind his smile that made her feel like he was proud of her too. 

“Noooo. Nothing like that, just talking about tips on how to make the perfect sugar cookies.” 

It felt dorky but she was smiling anyway because it was a way better time than she’d thought she’d have. They keep chatting as they walk from the convention space to the hotel where all the creators are held. It feels like there is something in the air, something different. There is always the heavy air of flirtations between them these days but it seems thicker than normal as they walk, somehow barely taking their eyes off each other. 

The throng of people making the same walk as them seems to only thicken until it’s just a mass of people trying the squeeze into elevators. They should probably take the stairs, they are only on the fourth floor but there is such a crowd Claire wouldn’t even know how to find them and Brad cracked a joke a little too loud and has made about six new friends so she stays in the crowd until she finds herself pushed into an elevator. 

The shove surprises her and she’s left making a small yelp and stumbling forward into the elevator. Suddenly Brad’s hands are on her hips guiding her back against his front and gripping her tightly as more people shuffle around them and jostle them both. 

His hands don’t leave her hips for the duration of the elevator ride and Claire finds herself breathless from the hint of warmth from his hands traveling through the thin linen of her clothing. It feels almost magical like the sensation of his touch on her hips is stopping time around them. This is when she should really realize she is a frog in hot water about to reach the boiling point, she needs to jump out of the pot before lines are crossed that can’t be uncrossed. 

Instead, the elevator dings on the fourth floor and Brad gently guides her off the elevator. Thankfully they are the only people to get off before as soon as the doors close she turns to look at him and he’s somehow still got a grip on her hips and all it takes is their eyes meeting. 

She’s pretty sure she made the first move, pushing up on her toes and hooking her arm around his neck to pull him down into the kiss. It doesn’t take long though before Brad gets tired of bending down for her and backs her into the wall opposite the elevators. Lifting her swiftly off the ground so her legs have to wrap around his waist as he pins her to the wall. 

Claire spends the night in Brad’s hotel bed that night. She tells herself (and him) that it will never happen again. It’s only the first time.


	2. Every night that summer just to seal my fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vidcon trip part two!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All RPF rules apply! Sorry if it's messy, this has quickly run out of control in my head. I intended this to be six little drabbles to just scratch the itch to write for these two. It's spiraled just al ittle bit and now I have like... plans for this! Enjoy! My english is probably worse than Brad's so like... don't come for me if nothing makes sense.

Claire wakes up too early for it to be considered morning yet, laying flat on her stomach with Brad’s face snoring softly into her shoulder blade and his arm wrapped loosely around her waist. She doesn’t admit to herself how long she finds herself staying there like that, trying to talk herself into staying until he wakes so they can actually talk. She doesn’t stay.

Instead, she easily slides away from him, thanking any gods that may exist that he is a deep enough sleeper to remain largely undisturbed by her absence. She tells herself that’s a sign that she never belonged there anyway. 

She finds the standard-issue Hilton branded pen and paper and writes a brief note after she’s dressed again in her clothes from the night before. The note is nothing special and nothing she didn’t say to him the night before. It’s a one-time thing, not a mistake but definitely not something that can happen again. She values him as a coworker and collaborator and most importantly a friend. 

When she’s back in the safety of her room she takes the longest shower of her life, fully abusing the hotel-sized hot water tank before getting dressed and venturing into the lobby hoping that she can find iced coffee. 

Claire finds a 20oz iced coffee without much issue but most surprising are the people who find her. Once again she finds that it’s not just her videos that are popular but her personality. She finds herself blushing and hiding behind her iced coffee as a near rotating cast of people asks her for selfies and rain down compliments on her. She’s not sure how long it lasts but eventually, the little alarm buzzes on her phone to tell her she has to find her way to the green room for the performance. 

She’s doing her best not to freak out about having to interact with Brad after what happened last night. She keeps getting these flash of terrible worst-case scenarios where he doesn’t show up or tries to kiss her on stage. 

Instead, she gets to the green room and he’s already there with one of his beanies covering freshly washed hair and a bagel in one hand as he animatedly talks to one of the green room attendants. Claire does a little wave as she walks in and Brad’s face lights up like it always does when she enters a room. 

“Claire’s here! Only like five minutes late this time! She’s got her coffee though, that’s the important thing.” 

Claire can feel the flush on her face at being called out on her developing habit of being fifteen minutes late with iced coffee. “Don’t blame me, blame the fact that this place is a maze and six people asked me for selfies on my walk here.”

“And blame our fans? Why Claire, I would never.” Brad winks at her and all Claire can do is take a long sip of her iced coffee, glaring up at him from through her lashes. It feels like flirting, like the way they used to all the time but now it suddenly feels wrong. Brad must feel it too because he breaks the eye contact, turning back to the handler and talking animatedly about what they are going to make on stage and asking about the list of things they had let the staff know they would need. Claire helps herself to some of the cookies she finds on the catering table, not exactly a nutritious breakfast but staring at the cookie and deconstructing it in her mind gives her something to focus on at least. 

For as awkward as everything felt in the green room, they are flawless on stage. They make sourdough pancakes and they come out without any real issues. Claire had never liked the feeling of being watched and for the first few moments on stage she was tense but Brad barreled forward with his normal over-eager attitude and it only took minutes for things to feel normal like they were back at home in the test kitchen. 

It’s only a little after noon when their panel ends. Back in the green room, they are given truly massive grab bags and several of the volunteers gush about how good the pancakes are. Brad starts asking if there are good deli’s nearby. The overwhelming answer is no, of course not, they’re in LA. But there is apparently a chicken and waffles place nearby that will deliver to the hotel. 

Claire is collecting her swag and starting to peel off out of the room and away on her own when Brad corners her. It’s probably the most gentle cornering anyone has ever done as he just gently slides into the path between her and the door. 

“I’m uh-” She can see the raw panic in his eyes and Claire is petrified he’s going to apologize to her and she has nothing planned for that. “Apparently this chicken place is bangin’ If I order enough for two you gonna wanna talk in my room over some LA chicken and waffles?” 

“Yes.” Claire regrets saying it as soon as the words leave her lips but there is also the loudest voice in her head that is screaming to just act normal and things will be normal. And Brad is like the one person Claire always wants to spend time with.

“I will be honored to host your presence, Saffitz.” The panic has melted away and he’s ripped off his beanie, slamming it animatedly over his heart as he grins at her. Claire says nothing, gently scooting around his tall frame and making her walk back to the hotel. 

It’s one of the weirder walks of her lifetime. She’s trying not to think about the fact that she’s going back to the proverbial scene of the crime and how she can still feel the beard burn that said crime had left on her inner thighs. Then she runs into someone who is dressed up as her and she takes a selfie but has to quickly excuse herself. 

It’s slightly closer to two hours later when Brad texts her a picture of a spread of food across a hotel bed. Claire chews nervously on her bottom lip but makes the short walk down the hall to his room and knocks on the door all the same. 

They manage to keep things normal while they eat. Claire teases him about eating on the bed. (“Disgusting.” She says while rolling her eyes. “What? That’s what they give ya two of them for, duh, Claire.” He fires back.) And they alternate between talking about the food and how they’re set went. 

It all feels normal until she’s using one of the little pre-moistened towelettes and Brad stands up off the bed, pulling the note she had written that morning and dropping it into Claire’s lap. “Do I get any say in whether we can keep doing what we did?”

Claire just has to stare up at him helplessly, her teeth pulling her lip between them as she thinks. If any other man challenged her like this it would be done. But this wasn’t a challenge. Brad’s eyes were soft, almost sad with what she would later realize was love. “I just… like being friends. I don’t want to make a habit of anything that would change that.” 

“Nothing has to change.” He’s grinning widely like he already knows he’s winning her over eyes flicking down to linger on her lips. “One more time? Give me something to savor. A savory Saffitz rendezvous.” 

He over pronounces the S in rendezvous and Claire starts to giggle and she lets the moment overtake her and she presses up on to her knees to meet his lips in a kiss. “Last time.” She mumbles, only half-heartedly now against his lips. It’s still not the last time.


	3. Fever dream high (In the quiet of the night)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Brad come home from vidcon and Claire gets sick. Brad continues to be a soft, love sick puppy and Claire continues to refuse to let herself see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took longer than normal. My new job leaves more free time but also more procrastination time!

They were in California for four days and all four days Claire kept ending up in bed (Or against a wall, or in a shower) with Brad. By the end of the long weekend, things had felt relaxed and comfortable and it was almost turning into something more than an ill-advised hookup. 

It was more than a little terrifying when Claire realized that on their final morning in Anaheim they were choosing to spend it curled up on Brad’s hotel bed, lazily exchanging kisses and complaining about how inconvenient afternoon flights were while HBO played softly in the background. It felt more like a relationship than most of her dating in the last five years. After having such thoughts she had immediately hightailed it out of the hotel room, ignoring Brad’s pouting as she took off. 

Later on the plane home, Claire sat nervously next to Brad, chewing on her bottom lip and staring at where his hand had come to overlap with hers on the armrest. Brad was managing to be so casual in all this like it wasn’t the most ill-advised and irresponsible thing Claire had done in her life. 

An hour into the flight, previously filled with small talk and warm laughter, Claire broke. “We can’t keep fucking back in Manhattan.” 

Claire pulls her hand out from his and Brad looks like a deer in headlights. He doesn’t wear a hat when he flys and his curls are messy and boyish and the look in his eyes is panic-filled confusion with hints of sadness and longing underneath. “Claire…” He trails off like he can’t find the right words.

Claire panics that she read the conversation all wrong and he never assumed it to be anything other than a vacation hook up. “I just mean- It should be completely off the table. So neither of us has to wonder… about… what-ifs.” She tries not to wonder about unspoken what-ifs, biting her lip before taking a long sip of her ginger ale. 

“Why’s that? There some sad bastard that’s gonna be looking to fight me for ya, Saffitz?”

If Claire had bothered to look up from her ginger ale for even a moment she would see how sad he looks, it might have been enough to make her realize that there were genuine feelings he had for her, not unlike the ones she was trying to bury in her chest. 

Instead, she barks out a laugh at the idea of there being some suitor waiting for her back home. “No, no. Oh god no.” It’s a cliche but manhattan dating is a nightmare, and she likes her job and her friends enough that she rarely feels lonely enough to even open tinder these days. 

Brad laughs and she can feel him about to say something and her heart really can’t take what she assumes to be some sort of friends with benefits proposal so she shakes her head and spits out “Just leave it, Brad.” She sounds angrier than she intended and they don’t talk for the rest of the flight home. 

The day after they arrive back in New York she’s meant to be back in the test kitchen and starting to try to make her own Pizza Rolls. Instead, she wakes but that morning with a one hundred degree fever. 

Claire is entirely sure that her immune system is actually made of a wet paper towel and she starts her normal ‘flu in July’ routine. Cold bath, coconut popsicles and staying in bed with Buffy playing on Hulu. She sends a message to the BA slack channel, apologizing for the inconvenience and asking to start the shoot on Friday instead. 

Carla offers the kind of mom wisdom you would expect while Molly and Delaney send several memes along the lines of ‘who the hell get the flu in July?’ and ‘Didn’t you have the flu-like a month ago?’ and Claire only responds with the one same sad cat meme she uses for most everything. She tries not to be sad that Brad never responds back about how she needs to eat more garlic. 

It’s just after five and she’s barely conscious, tucked up in bed and debating if she should order delivery pho or ignore the quiet hunger pangs in favor of more sleep when her phone rings. It’s Brad of all people and Claire doesn’t really want to answer it but she can’t ignore Brad so she answers with a pitifully small Hello.

“Oh good, you're awake. I uh- I know your building but I’m standing in the elevator and I just realized I don’t know your apartment number or uh- even the floor, babe. Help me out here? I brought everything you could need to get well soon.” 

Claire is quiet for a little too long as she tries to process everything that was just said to her, all she can focus on this the quiet way he called her and baby and brought her things to make her feel better. He calls her name and she mumbles the apartment number and floor. 

She shuffles out of bed to meet him at the door. She’s expecting some comment about how awful she must look but it never comes. Brad is obviously trying to stay calm, his voice is soft as he orders her back to bed. Claire surprises herself by obeying, letting him putter around her kitchen out of her view until suddenly he reappears in her bedroom. 

He brought wedding soup, that he had made earlier that day with extra garlic just for her. There is also sourdough for her to nimble on and ginger tea and he sits on the side of her bed as she eats. Half watching her and half entertaining her with stories for the test kitchen that day. She barely says more than three sentences and yet he fulfills her every need. 

When she finishes the soup he cleans up her dishes for her, disappearing silently and reappearing with another cup of tea. She expects a goodbye but instead, he hands her the tea and flops silently behind her, spooning her softly. 

“Brad…” Claire’s voice is soft and weak as she tries to protest. It feels lovely but it’s certainly gone beyond friendship again and she has no clue how to respond to it. 

“Shush Claire, I’ll go if you really want me to, I will. But I just want you to let me take care of you. You deserve someone taking care of you and being good to you, Saffitz.” She hears something in his voice that doesn’t let her protest the assertion or his closeness. She isn’t willing to call it love, but she knows that’s what it is. 

Later that night he’s still pressed against her, wearing all his clothes and just holding her after hours of getting her fresh tea and watching Buffy with her. He’s snoring now softly in her year and she whispers out loud to no one. “You can’t keep doing this. I’m going to fall in love with you.” Her plea is answered with another snore.

**Author's Note:**

> This is RPF and all RPF rules apply ya'll. Don't fucking share this. I find out about someone sharing this I will hunt you down.


End file.
